


The pull on my flesh was just too strong

by ShireGrown



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: "Broken Crown" - Mumford & Sons, Desolation of Smaug, Gold Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShireGrown/pseuds/ShireGrown
Summary: He was not his grandfather.He would never wear his broken crown.





	

The halls of Erebor felt like a missing piece finally coming into place. He knew each path, each crevice, each room. He could feel the Mountain sing out in joy at the sounds of dwarrow returning home.

Darker memories filled his mind. Gold, jewels, treasures beyond imagination. Fire and death, and the suffocating smoke that filled all those crevices.

His grandfather, once a great king, reduced to a greedy man who cared about nothing except the riches harvested from the Mountain, both raw and crafted.

 

The son of Durin sighed and looked around at the small company gathered on this nook on the mountainside. They had been through hell and were so close to reaching their reward. The fact that his sister-sons weren't with him to see the opening of the door was regrettable, but he knew that they would be safer in Laketown.

Another regret was sending the Burglar down into the Mountain, possibly to his doom. He admits to growing close to the little hobbit, a good friend, something he did not account for at their first meeting.

But no matter the sacrifices made, this was his legacy. Their legacy. And as sad as the sacrifice might be, the greater goal overpowered whatever that sacrifice was.

 

A loud rumbling noise shook the Mountain from within, echoing to the dwarrow on the landing. Their eyes widen with fear, shock, and horror, as they stood up, trying to figure out where it came from. They were denying the inevitable, Thorin thought as he turned away from the entrance, his mind going to the Burglar they sent into the Dragon's lair.

"Was that an earthquake?"

Balin glanced towards the worried look on Thorin's face. "That, my lad, was a dragon."

 

An orange glow coming from the door was all the dwarrow needed to be sure that something had gone horribly wrong. A few of the company shared looks before Ori spoke up. "What about Bilbo?"

"Give him more time." He could still be alive and hiding from the dragon. He would find the Arkenstone. He wouldn't fail the company.

Balin sent him a skeptical look. "Trying to do what? To be killed?"

Thorin narrowed his eyes towards the elderly dwarf. "You're afraid."

There was a pause as the company watched the two dwarrow, ready to step in at any moment. "Yes, I'm afraid." Balin stepped up towards him. "I fear for YOU. A sickness lies upon that treasure hoard, a sickness that drove your grandfather mad."

"I am not my grandfather." Thorin took a step towards his advisor, almost daring him to continue.

"You're not yourself." Balin, while not completely rising to the bait, continued. "The Thorin I know would not hesitate to go in there-"

"I will not risk this quest for the life of one burglar." Why did no one else see that? Were they truly that blinded that they couldn't see the importance of this compared to one life.

"Bilbo. His name is Bilbo!" He was surprised at the disgusted look sent by Balin before he marched off to his brother. Ignoring the looks from the rest of dwarrow, he turned away from the door.

He was not his grandfather.

He would never wear his broken crown.

 

However, everything was lost when the son of Durin saw the gold, the mountains of treasure.

The glittering coins, light glancing of gems and jewels. All products of dwarrow labor. His people's legacy. And soon he would have it, his right to rule. The Arkenstone.

 

He lost sight of the hobbit in front of him, just seeing the Burglar. “Did you find the Arkenstone?”

"The dragon is coming!" Bilbo sent a disbelieving look as if questioning why he was wasting time.

"The Arkenstone!" He was blocked the Burglar's way. He would not let him pass until he had it. Dropping his voice, he asked again. "Did you find it?"

After a pause, the Burglar tried to get into the tunnel." No. We have to get out."

Not liking this answer, Thorin swung his sword across the entrance, blocking it once again. Pressing the blade again the Burglar, he watched as he stumbled back, his sword following, tip resting against his chest.

He did not register the frantic expression or cries of his name. Stepping forward, he forced the Burglar back, his face cleared of emotion unlike the fearful creature in front of him.

The Burglar looked to the side, distracted by a noise, and Thorin followed, eyes widening slightly at the dragon fast approaching.

The two were quickly joined by the rest of their company, and soon they were running for their lives, facing off the dragon, and watching the ruin he would cause.

 

However, in the back of his mind was the gold, the treasure.

The Arkenstone.

 

This was the beginning of his fall, even if he would not see it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Mumford & Sons' Broken Crown  
> JRR Tolkien and Peter Jackson own The Hobbit
> 
> This song reminded me a lot of Thorin, so I decided to use it as inspiration for Thorin's point of view on events while Bilbo was in the Mountain.


End file.
